Five 3/?

Author; azzy
rating: M+
warnings: Oh my! I would like you to read this first, and besides that, there is some REALLY offensive language.
characters; Angel junior, Ramon, Tristan, Nate, Sal.
AN; Okay here we go, as I said please read the link in the warnings before you read on, I’d hate to have someone throwing a pissy fit because they didn’t. And please remember everything will make sense eventually. =) 

Rob the grave, to snow the cradle.
Then burn the evidence down.
Soapbox, house of cards, and glass,
So don’t go tossin’ your stones around.

Who are you to wave your finger?
So full of it.
Eyeballs deep in muddy waters
Fuckin’ hypocrite.

Liar, lawyer, mirror, show me.
What’s the difference?


“Tristan?” Nate whispered, noticing that his younger brother finally showed signs of waking up. “Tris? Sweetie?”

Tristan slowly opened his eyes and stared unfocused at Nate, “Nate?” He croaked.

Nate smiled “Yeah, I’m here.” He reached for Tristan’s hand, but Tristan removed his before his brother could touch it.

“What are you doing here?” Tristan asked, his discomfort evident in his voice.

“The doctor called us, telling us where you were, and asking us to come.” Nate said with a little nod.

“Does that mean I can leave now?” Tristan asked, stretching with the purpose of sitting up.

“No.. Uhm..” Nate said carefully, “They would like to finish their tests, so..”

“No.” Tristan simply stated.

“Tris, its for your own good.” Ramon mumbled.

Tristan lifted his head a little and looked at Ramon in the chair, “I said no.”

Ramon looked up as well, smiling at Tristan, “They need that test to make it an official police case, don’t you want to catch whomever did this?”

“No.” Tristan huffed, “Nothing happened, you are all blowing this way out of proportions. I just fell over.”

Ramon and Nate looked at each other, none of them believing one word, but if Tristan really didn’t want the test, who were they to force him? And truth be, if it was one of them laying there, would they want the test done, answering all the hard questions that would follow?

Silence filled the room, until they heard the door open with a swishing sound, letting the muffled sounds from the hall, loudly into the room for a short moment. Nate looked up to see who came in, feeling his heart sink as he saw who entered the room.

“Hey.” Sal said striding into the room, “You forgot I had a hearing today?”

“Honestly, yes.” Nate said, feeling horrible that they had forgotten about Sal. “I’m sorry but..”

“It’s okay.” Sal said, smiling at his brother, “Angel came and picked me up, he told me what went on.” He looked briefly at Tristan, “Are you okay there kiddo?”

“Yeah, just tired.” Tristan said, giving Sal a tiny smile.

Ramon took a deep breath and smiled a guarded smile at his brother. “Welcome  back to the land of the living.”

“Thanks.” Sal said, running a hand through his hair.

“It looks good,” Ramon said, referring to the hair, “It’s been a long time since I saw you with hair.”

“The barber died.” Sal said, not returning the friendly attempt of conversation.

“He is right,” Nate quickly added, “It looks good on you.”

“I feel like a fucking hippie.” Sal stated.

Angel looked down at Tristan in the bed, “Hey Tris, how’s it holding up?”

“I said; I’m fine, just tired.” Tristan sneered.

“How many were they?” Angel asked.

“None, I fell on my own.” Tristan answered strained, annoyed.

“Are you seriously trying to make me believe that you knocked yourself out on the pavement? bending two ribs and breaking your leg in the process?” Angel said.

“Yes.” Tristan said harshly, “Just leave it be, man.”

“Come on..” Angel rolled his eyes, “No one..”

“He said, leave it.” Nate said, staring at Angel, “So do it.”

“It’s a pretty valid question, no need to cut him off like that, Nate.” Sal huffed. Ramon stayed silent, but stared at Nate, wordlessly agreeing with Sal.

“Come on guys, what is this? The Spanish Inquisition? If he claims he fell, he fell, end of story.” Nate said sternly, crossing his arms over his chest.


“Thanks for the money you sent.” Sal said, offering his brother a little smile.

“No problem,” Ramon said, wondering for how long Sal would keep it this civil, or maybe it was because he was considerate of Tristan. “You’re my brother after all.”

Sal nodded, “We didn’t exactly part on the best terms. So I was just surprised to see a money transfer from you. That’s all.”

Ramon shrugged, “We are brothers, Sal.”

“So Tris, are you ready to go?” Nate asked, “Then I will go sign the release form at the desk.”

“Yeah.” Tristan said, winching as he turned around in bed.

Ramon stared at Nate in disbelief, was he just going to release Tristan like that? Letting him deny any of it all happened?  He looked up at Sal as Angel and Nate left for the front desk. “You talk to him then.”

“Nate told me you still play in your band, are you getting any better?” Sal asked softly, settling down on the chair that held Nate before. He smiled, “Getting any chicks on rock ‘n Roll yet?”

Tristan laughed measured, “Yeah, I’m still in the band, we have a gig next week, like a real one, one that pays.”

“That’s awesome.” Sal said with smile. “Angel said he was covering over you, because Nate told you to come straight home.” He scratched a hole in his jeans, “That was really stupid Tris.”

“I know.” Tristan admitted.

“You should stick up for yourself instead, If you really wanted to rehearse, you should just have told the truth and left, who should stop you?” Sal said.

Nate came though the door in that very moment, “What are you telling the boy?” He asked mortified.

“I am telling him to tell the truth.” Sal stated, “Or is it because you just don’t like heavy metal that you are trying to keep him from doing what he loves?” He frowned, “Just like you hate everything else that is not gods fearing family values, in your opinion.”

Nate’s face grew red with anger, but all that came out over his lips was ‘lets leave’.


When they arrived home, Nate went to make sure that Tristan got to bed, serving him some ‘decent food’ instead of that hospital food. Sal went to the kitchen and put over some coffee, when Ramon joined him. “So.” Ramon said, “What are the terms of your release?”

“Terms?” Sal chewed on the word for a little while, “That I don’t shoot people I should reckon.” He winked.


“Alright, I have to show up at my parole officer’s office once every 14 days, and I have to start some school or work. You know, be a solid pillar of society.” Sal snickered.

Ramon scratched his cheek, and bit his lip, “Yanno, I can probably help you with that, if you want me to.”

“What? A job?” Sal laughed, “Do you really think I would go over well with all your little nigger-loving homo friends?”

Ramon cleared his throat, determined not to be provoked, he knew this hate would spew from Sal eventually. “Well.. Maybe you could not say much, and keep your shirt on?” He looked away from his brothers angry glare, “It was just a suggestion.”

Sal took a deep breath, “Thank you.” Ramon looked slightly confused, and so Sal repeated, “Thanks.”

“So you want me to..” Ramon started.

“Are you fucking crazy man?” Sal laughed again, “Look I know you’re trying to be friendly, or brotherly, or whatever it is, but Tom already offered me a job at the newspaper.”

Ramon couldn’t keep it to himself anymore, “That fascist shit pile you people call a newspaper?”

“There is a fucking difference in being fascist and advocating race awareness.” Sal pouted. 

“Bitch, please!” Ramon rolled his eyes, “If you were that fucking race aware, you’d chance your name to Conseptión, or Esteban, and join fucking MS13 or something..” He shook his head, “For fucks sake Sal.”

“Hungry boys?” Nate sing song as he entered the kitchen.

“Are you calling me a fucking spic?”

“Yes I am, you fucking moron.” Ramon growled frustrated, “Have you told your little Clan buddies that your grandmother is an Bolivian immigrant? have you?”

“I have nothing against people from Bolivia per se, as long as they fucking stay in Bolivia.” Sal stated, Shrugging he continued, “I don’t see you dancing the fucking flamenco either, so don’t give me that shit about being a fucking mountain monkey, we are much more white than anything.”

“Maybe it’s because I don’t give a flying fuck where I am from.” Ramon argued.

“Well it’s not like you’re gonna populate the nation anyway.” Sal spat.

“Damn straight I ain’t.” Ramon spat back, “But I fucking hope you’re sterile if that is the sort of shit you’d fill your kids heads with.”

“HEY!” Nate suddenly yelled, standing at the oven staring at the arguing pair.. he knew they’d fight, they had never stopped fighting like this since Sailor got his first racist tattoo, demanding to be called Sal because Sailor sounded like a homo. He even beat up a couple of Ramon’s boyfriends in the past, just for kicks. Nate agreed with Sal as far as it was wrong to bed another of your own sex, but he didn’t quite understand why all that anger and violence had to come into the equation. “Indoor voices.” He added.

Both Sal and Ramon stopped talking. “We are brothers, and we have noting but each other, that alone should be enough for you both to ignore your differences and agree on being family, and family stick together.” Nate said.

“Nate?” Sal said with an amused grin. “Shut the fuck up.”



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